Changes Made By Fate
by Maharet
Summary: Voldie wants to lure Harry to him, and he kidnaps Ron. But something unexpected happens. *SLASH*!!!!!
1. Chapter One

Changes made by fate  
  
by: Maharet  
  
archives: sure, just say where  
  
pairing: Voldemort & Ron Weasley  
  
rating: dunno, NC-17 later  
  
feedback: yes, pretty please *big, lost puppy eyes*  
  
Notes: I don't own a thing! But I sure want to. Just can't. I'm poor!  
  
Part 1: Possession  
  
Warning: this fic is SLASH! If you don't like the idea of male and male love, then don't read it! Flames will be laughed at!!!  
  
  
  
Part One: The Kidnap  
  
It was a dark night. Everyone was asleep. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sleeping in their own room, Fred and George in theirs, Ginny was away with her aunt and Ron was sleeping in his own room and in his own bed. He burrowed himself deep into his covers, his dark red hair fell over the pillows. There was a soft hiss, like wind pushing trough the trees. Nobody heard it. The figures on the walls of his room were all watching silently. They all knew something was coming. Something…  
  
There was no warning. Ron felt himself hauled out of his peaceful and warm sleep. He felt cold, thin fingers glued on his mouth and heard a soft whisper, a spell, then he fell asleep again.  
  
  
  
Yes, I know it is too short, but there will be more, I promise.  
  
Feedback please! 


	2. Chapter Two

Changes made by fate  
  
by: Maharet  
  
archives: sure, just say where  
  
pairing: Voldemort & Ron Weasley  
  
rating: dunno, NC-17 later  
  
feedback: yes, pretty please *big, lost puppy eyes*  
  
Notes: I don't own a thing! But I sure want to. Just can't. I'm poor!  
  
Warning: this fic is SLASH! If you don't like the idea of male and male love, then don't read it! Flames will be laughed at!!!  
  
  
  
Part 2: Possession  
  
  
  
He looked at the small form on the floor of his chambers. He looked unearthly pale, such a bright contrast against the black stones. In his room almost everything was black. The walls, the floor, the bed with it's covers and his snakes. Well, there were colorful ones too, but there were a lot of black ones too.  
  
He kneeled down to the floor and hesitantly touched the soft, rich red hair. Nothing about this boy radiated the blackness he felt around himself. Not from the outsides, but the insides. This boy never felt hate so strong he felt for others, and from others. He was loved like he was never.  
  
He was never loved. His mother died giving birth to him, his father hated him, and nobody from the orphanage liked him because of his powers. He was queer, a freak. Or at least from their point of view.  
  
But Potter, he got everything. He got love, he got family. He even got friends, a best friend. But now, but now…  
  
He gathered up the lithe body and placed him on his own bed. He won't get up for at least 2 or 3 hours. That would be enough to decide what to do with him. Capturing and bringing him here was one thing, but going on with his plan was another.  
  
He never thought that he would be drawn to another being after all that happened to him. It was impossible. But he could enjoy the time the boy would spend here before he killed him.  
  
He softly touched the soft material of the boys pajamas. It was pure white, stained with mud. It didn't matter. It didn't matter that it stained the bedcovers. Nobody shared his bed for a very long time now. He needed somebody. Well. It would be a shame to kill him, he thought as he slipped his hand in his pajama-top.  
  
He felt warm skin, hot silk. He snatched his fingers back in the instant like Ron had burnt it.  
  
No. He should not get himself too deep in this. He should go with the plan. Kidnap Ron Weasley, push him in a cage and wait for Potter.  
  
Yes, that would be the plan. But something was nagging him. He didn't really want to push that boy away. But that was wrong. He knew it. He didn't want any possibilities of ruining his plan. Never.  
  
There was only one way he could do this. He would become Tom Riddle again. Ron Weasley had never seen him, his face, so he could be his young self again. He just had to think of another name.  
  
He stormed out of his chambers, black satin robes swirling after him. He was going to find Severus, and ask him to do the potion which would give him his young form back.  
  
  
  
Okay…. This was short too, but hey, I'll be writing more… I hope so. Now I need to write more for my other fics. Feedback please! 


	3. Chapter Three

Changes made by fate  
  
  
  
by: Maharet  
  
archives: sure, just say where  
  
pairing: Voldemort & Ron Weasley  
  
rating: dunno, NC-17 later  
  
feedback: yes, pretty please *big, lost puppy eyes*  
  
Notes: I don't own a thing! But I sure want to. Just can't. I'm poor!  
  
Warning: this fic is SLASH! If you don't like the idea of male and male love, then don't read it! Flames will be laughed at!!!  
  
  
  
Part 3: Broken and changed  
  
  
  
It was easy, asking Severus to make the potion. He said, that it will be at least three hours till it will be finished. So he made his way out into the hall. He slipped from shadow to shadow. It was an old habit that died hard. He wasn't even sure he wanted rid of it. He just hated everything. He wasn't guilty, no that was something he wasn't used to do. Being a Dark Lord didn't make somebody guilty after all. But sometimes he wondered…  
  
He wondered if it would have been better if he didn't do it. He would have been just another wizard, doing nothing, just living, and accepting that the world wasn't in order… And not doing anything. Just hating his father, hating all those muggles…  
  
He felt anger. He felt it burning his throat, his eyes. Hate always left a bitter taste in his mouth. He just couldn't leave the world like it was. Wizards were too friendly. And muggles were evil. Evil little things, always hurting the one who was down, and always begging for forgiveness… Forgiveness he would never give. No. Never. Never in his lifetime. No. Not a chance.  
  
He sat there, head in his hands, not seeing Severus, who stalked in his direction.  
  
Severus knew his master. No matter, who said that he didn't, the man could feel guilt. In a twisted way, yes, but he felt it. He remembered seeing him sitting on his dark throne head in his hands sobbing. He was sobbing from memories. He didn't say that he agreed with the man. He never did. But it was something, something the man showed only in this state. Now everybody could see, that he was not the powerful Dark Lord, he was just a hurt child. A hurt child, who was pushed away. Bitter, no, more bitter than Severus himself. If it wasn't for the stupid muggles, he wouldn't have become this, this thing who hurt just to kill the pain in his own heart. He killed, and killed seeing just his own father. He was powerful, yes, but this times, Snape felt pity for this broken man. He was broken, yes, more times he or anyone could count it, and he healed, if he healed in a twisted way.  
  
Severus felt his hands shake. He tried to poison him, but he couldn't do it. Not even for Weasley's shake. It wouldn't help. Not a chance. The man would feel it, and then he would be killed, and then he couldn't try to save the boy. So he made the potion right. He didn't know why his Lord wanted it, but he never questioned the purpose. He would never get an answer. So he made his way quickly to the sitting man in the shadows.  
  
Voldemort looked up. He didn't realize Severus has gotten so close. He was standing in front of him, the potion in his hands. It glowed gently in the dark room in a vivid red. It was nothing like blood, no. It was clear like water, and red like a ruby. He could imagine it tasted like strawberries. He nearly smiled, but schooled his features back in a scowl.  
  
"Severus."  
  
"My Lord. I've finished your potion. Would you like to take it here, or would you like to drink it in your room?" He asked as he offered the small glass to his master, which was taken by spidery fingers.  
  
"Here would be fine." The Dark Lord said, and drank the liquid. It tasted nothing like strawberries. It tasted like a hot, sunny afternoon, tinted by green leafs.  
  
He felt his body change. He felt the blood in his body warming. His heart beat harder. When he looked at his hands, he felt like crying. Tom Riddle.  
  
These were Tom Riddle's hands.  
  
  
  
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Okay…. This was short, but I'll be writing more… Now I need to write more for my Neville fic. Feedback please! 


	4. Chapter Four

Changes made by fate  
  
  
  
by: Maharet  
  
archives: sure, just say where  
  
pairing: Voldemort & Ron Weasley  
  
rating: dunno, NC-17 later  
  
feedback: yes, pretty please *big, lost puppy eyes*  
  
Notes: I don't own a thing! But I sure want to. Just can't. I'm poor!  
  
Warning: this fic is SLASH! If you don't like the idea of male and male love, then don't read it! Flames will be laughed at!!!  
  
  
  
Part 4: Human Touch  
  
  
  
He looked up at Severus, who looked back at him with an odd expression.  
  
"Thank you." He said as he got up his throne, and brushed against the tall man as he exited the hall.  
  
He made his way back to his room quickly. He didn't want to miss the boy's awakening.  
  
But he was late. He saw it the time he opened his room. Ron Weasley was up, and he looked scared and furious at the same time. His face was angry, and he had a chair in his hands, placed between him, and the intruder.  
  
"Who the hell are you, and where am I?" He spat at Tom.  
  
"You are in Voldemort's chambers." Said Tom. He neared the stunned boy and grabbed the chair, but he was pushed back, the chair jerked out his grasp.  
  
"Where???"  
  
"You heard me. But he won't comeback for some time. I'm here to ask you if you are hungry or thirsty. And don't be afraid, you are too dear for him to just poison you. I promise, that you won't be hurt." He added at the skeptical look on the boy's face.  
  
"And who are you?" He asked, his voice accusing.  
  
"My name is Tom. We will meet every day. I'm to take care of you." He smiled a little.  
  
"Are you his slave?" Ron asked, and lowered the chair a little.  
  
"No. I'm not. I'm nobody's slave." His face was too stern, he tried to lighten it up a little  
  
"Then what are you doing here? Are you one of the Death Eaters?" The cair was back in it's place.  
  
Tom walked around the boy, who turned around with him, seeing him as athreat till he sat on the bed.  
  
"Not really. I'm not a Death Eater. But you can say, that I live here. I know everybody. But I'm not a Death Eater. Nope."  
  
The chair hit the floor, and was back beside the table.  
  
"Then let me out. You can come with me. You'll be protected, I promise." Said Ron, his face so hopeful, Tom nearly felt bad to disappoint him.  
  
"I can't do that. I can't leave this place." He lied. But at the same time, he spoke the truth. "If I go out, I will die."  
  
"You'll die? How?"  
  
Tom toke a big breath. He would lie, but it will be truth… well, neither.  
  
"I'm Voldemort's creation. I can't leave him, because I'll die. If you kill him, I die. If you hurt him, you hurt me. See?"  
  
"Uh… I'm sorry." Said Ron, and looked at him with something in his eyes… It was pity."  
  
"It's okay. I'm okay with it."  
  
"So… You're some kind of a demon?" Asked Ron, his eyes so curious.  
  
"No. I'm human. Just like you. Kind of…"  
  
"So…" Ron blushed in a pretty crimson. "Can I touch you?"  
  
Tom stared at him dumbfounded. Ron wanted to touch him… Ron wanted to touch him! Nobody touched him for at least forty years. He craved that touch.  
  
"Sure." He said, thankful, that his voice sounded okay. "Go… go on."  
  
And then Tom Riddle, the same as Lord Voldemort offered his hand for the young boy to touch it.  
  
  
  
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Okay…. This was short too, but I promise, that I'll be writing more… And I have to rewrite my Dark Ages fic…. And I have to study some, it is my last year… Oh, joy! 


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